The orphan of Novigrad
by UntoastedMaul
Summary: The events of Halloween 1981 leave Harry stranded in Novigrad. After a rough childhood he becomes determined to progress through society and to the top. What ever it takes.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my attempt at a Harry Potter/ Witcher story. I have no illusions that I am an incredible writer but this thought would not leave me alone for some reason. The pairing will be Harry/Ciri although she and Geralt won't make any real appearance until Witcher 3 (1272), mainly because everything I know about the universe come from The Witcher 3, FanFiction and the wiki. There will be a few cameos before then and I will try to move to that period of time as quickly as possible but I don't intent to rush the start too much. It's (rather foolishly on my part) intended to be quite long but I have no idea how far I will get with. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and if not then I'd really appreciate a review telling me what I could do better. **

**Prologue**

Lily Potter nee Evans was an exceptionally smart witch, her results in OWL's and NEWT's could attest to that much. Ever since Dumbledore had told her and James of that accursed prophecy she had been making plans for the survival of her son first and foremost and her and James second. For it didn't matter if neither of them believed it, Voldemort did and that was enough to make it a great threat to them.

For years Voldemort had killed his enemies indiscriminately regardless of race, sex, religion or blood purity; in fact the only thing that they all had in common was that they had all met death as a direct result of the killing curse. As an active participant in the war Lily was well aware of this fact and thus she prepared for the eventuality that Voldemort did actually come knocking. Well obviously Voldemort wasn't the type of man to knock on the door but you knew what she meant. Harry's survival was paramount to her, unquestionably the most important thing in her life and she would do anything to see him survive.

It was with this single minded focus she delved into magic further than she ever had before. She scoured every book that she could find for anything that might prove useful in protecting her family but almost every book proved fruitless. Almost. One book knew of a ritual which could protect someone but only if life was willingly given to protect said person. With little other options and no knowledge of when Voldemort may or may not come for them she jumped on the knowledge and made swift preparations.

A ritual such as the one she was prepared to use would almost certainly result in her being scorned and ostracised from magical society if they discovered it but that was secondary to keeping her child safe. The ritual would protect her son from anything so long as she lay down her life in defence of her son willingly. Unfortunately for Lily she could not know that Voldemort would have a worse plan for her son than simple death, for her son was to be used for the creation of Voldemort's final horcrux and his ultimate defeat of death.

**October 31****st**** 1981**

When the dreaded night came, the night Lily hoped never would but had known deep down was inevitable, a matter of time, she was ready.

The wards flared as Voldemort tore them down with a laziness that spoke volumes of his arrogance and confidence. James rushed to fight him wand in hand and even gave a fairly good accounting himself but 'fairly good' was nowhere near enough to stop Voldemort tearing through him like wet paper in a matter of a minute.

Voldemort strode calmly over the body of James Potter the fool who thought he could defend himself and his family from him, Voldemort. He slowly began to ascend the stairs to where he could sense the mudblood and her whelp.

When he reached the door he saw her standing there tearfully standing in front of a crib containing her son wand in hand. A wandless gesture and she was disarmed. She didn't seem concerned for the loss of her wand but moments later Voldemort knew why as she broke down begging for her sons life, for him to spare him take her instead. The display was rather pathetic he thought as he looked down at her with red malevolent eyes.

"Step aside girl" he commanded, his follower Snape had asked this of him in return for sharing the prophecy and Voldemort figured that one as benevolent as him should at least try to honour the wishes of his servants.

"Please", she sniffled out, tears streaking down her cheeks "take me, please spare Harry, he's innocent. Please I'll do anything!" her voice now hoarse and her breathing coming hard as panic overwhelmed her. Not for her but her child.

"Move aside you silly girl" He commanded again. This was testing his patience rather much and he was close to disregarding Severus' wishes.

"Please". Voldemort's lips curled in distaste as he looked down at her tearful display.

"Lord Voldemort doesn't ask thrice" he sneered down at her as he raised his wand and shouted out the last words Lily Evans would ever hear "Avada Kedavra". She fell over dead, although Voldemort did note with some curiosity that her face seemed to be wearing a smile now rather than the anguish she had been displaying over the course of their little encounter. Voldemort wasn't very good with emotions so he just wrote it off as her perhaps being depressed, he couldn't fathom why else she might smile as she died.

He strode past her and looked down into the crib at the young boy who prophesy decreed would dethrone him, he sneered down at him. As if such a pathetic being could defeat him, he was immortal an immortality that would be secured with this child's death. He had been preparing for this night for a long time now, ever since the spineless worm Wormtail had told him of the Potter's fidelius hidden house. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

In his arrogance he never even thought of the possibility that a mudblood a being inferior to Lord Voldemort, who had died begging for her sons life could have outwitted him even in death. His soul had been ready for the split now for weeks. His soul would now easily flow into his most prized possession. His wand. He loomed ominously and by this point young Harry had woken up and was now crying noisily presumably at the loss of his mother. Voldemort spared one last glance at the boy and raised his wand. The boy was clutching a blanket with his name on it and small golden lions covering it. The boy himself Voldemort thought looked no different from any other baby he had ever seen, like a potato with a small amount of hair. The only thing that made him seem any different from any other child was his eyes, an almost glowing green.

"You might have one day been a real threat to me child. Lord Voldemort allows no competition. AVADA KEDVRA" Vicious green light erupted from his wand and struck Harry in the forehead. At this moment Voldemort was already tearing his soul away ready to put it in his wand leaving him unable to realise the rune circles hidden under the carpet had just started glowing.

The power of the ritual dedicated to protecting Harry, fuelled by his mother's death and love clashed with the killing curse and Voldemort who was currently wrangling his soul in preparation of ripping it from his body. The clash was vicious, an immovable object and unstoppable force would be a good way to put it and thus it was that an unexpected outcome occurred.

The power of both the killing curse and the ritual reflected back on the user. Unfortunately for Voldemort this meant his physical form would be cast in to obscurity for many years. That's not to say he came out the worst though. At least he was still on the planet; Harry however was catapulted through space and time. Harry could do naught but cry as magic tore through space and time and pulled him along for the ride.

**Novigrad- 1246 November 31st **

Saovine celebrations were still going, even early into the morning. It would be some hours before first light and so you could still see the fires out with burning models of Falka the famed rebel. People were out celebrating raucously almost all of them blind drunk committing all kinds of shenanigans. Yet said shenanigans would not be the most important thing this night no instead the most important thing happening in Novigrad was the burst of magic that occurred on a deserted street, powerful enough to be sensed by sufficiently magically sensitive people hundreds of miles away, powerful enough to warrant investigation. However said burst of magic had little effect on the Novigrad street except to make it seem as if there was a particularly powerful gust of wind. No houses were damaged and no glass was put out, fortunate because that would have pissed off a lot of drunk people.

In the middle of the muddy, wet street was a babe who had appeared in the burst of magic and was now sleeping, exhausted by the events of the evening. He lay there for at least half an hour in the mud and the street until eventually a patrol of the city guard happened upon him. Dressed in plate armour one of them gave his polearm to the other and bent down to pick the boy up staring at him quizzically as if trying to figure out why he was there before his face slowly betrayed his growing understanding.

"Another one eh?" asked the other of the guard "damn shame how many leave their kids out here likes this, Hans said he found 4 of them but a month ago."

"Aye, its common enough" the other guard spoke back with a hard tone "city is going to be crawling with orphans and beggars at this rate" He held the boy up and inspected him "Sleeping. Know what I reckon happened Bogdan?" The other guard looked at him and gave a half shrug.

"Didn't want another mouth to feed I assume" he replied

"Nah, not quite. I reckon the mother was a whore. Wanted to keep the child until eventually she found out it was more effort than it was worth. Think of how much work she must have missed. Much easier to just dump him while he sleeps." The guard seemed confident in his statement but regardless he turned to the other guard to gage his reaction, he seemed to think similarly because he grunted and gave a nod. "Anyway, can't keep him here, child's like to freeze to death and the sooner we get rid of him the quicker we can go for a drink."

"Aye right you are. Saint Gregory's orphanage then?" asked the second guard as he looked in the direction of most of the fires, the more affluent Temple Isle area where more people were burning fires and Falka models.

"Aye it's a bit of a walk but fortunately it's on the way to the barracks, child will be fed, watered and given a bed until he's 10 then he's out with all the other gutter rats. Like to become one of them I tell you, not a one of them grows up to become anything less than a thief and a cheat." That seemed to be the end of the conversation as they wandered off to find the St Gregory's orphanage and drop off the child.

St Gregory's orphanage was to put it bluntly a shithole. It had been opened up in recognition of Saint Gregory a wealthy merchant who gave up half of his fortune to import food from Nazair in an awful famine, now though it had fallen into disrepair and was underfunded and cram packed full of young children. A few women worked around and fed the children however they were very understaffed considering that there was almost nobody who would freely give up their time to help the children. The place had in recent times had to start kicking children out at around 10 because they couldn't afford to look after them all, this led to many dying in the street hungry or killed in the process of stealing. Truly a charming place for young Harry to spend the year's most important to his development.

The guards dropped him off with no theatrics, this was common practise unfortunately and children arrived with alarming regularity. The madams of the orphanage eyed him disdainfully. Once upon a time many of these women had actually cared about these children however the short funds and the harsh nature of the place quickly made many of them immune to the children's suffering. Many of the women had made it their mission to instil some discipline and respect in many of the children before they were turned out into society. Harry would soon learn that they did this in many ways that in his home world would most definitely be classed as child abuse. For now however Harry was put down in a worn and dirty cot and left to sleep through the night.

**Slightly later that same night… **

Morning was just around the corner and all Saovine celebrations had died down to nary a murmur by this point in time and thus this was the sort of time no one would notice an odd character walking the street, a sorceress for example.

Perfect Philippa thought as she walked towards were she thought she sensed the faint traces of magic that had earlier felt like a miasma of power washing over her senses. No doubt sorcerers and sorceresses would be discreetly swarming this street in the coming days but fortunately there were no notable magic users in Novigrad at the moment, aside from her obviously.

Vizimir had sent her for trade relations, officially that is, she suspected he might have grown slightly annoyed with her and wished for a reason to not see her for a while. Normally she would be incensed and she still was but she was just now appreciating the opportunity that it had provided her. She was the first one on the scene of a powerful magic burst, perhaps an artefact or more interestingly a source. Perhaps she could turn them to her side she thought and make an ally of them or… or…No. She cut off that line of thought; better not to get ones hopes ups especially in the absence of any evidence other than the magic burst.

She stilled when she thought her self at the epicentre and tried looking around on the ground for any impressions, footprints perhaps, they wouldn't be much be she might be able to guess the sex of the individual and guess a direction if the magic trail proved too weak. The lack of light on the street didn't make seeing such things easy but with a murmured word a ball of light was in her hands, she was a sorceress after all. Nothing other than a pair off guard's hob nailed boot prints she thought with a huff and quickly refocused on the magic with all the skill expected of a 160 year old sorceress. The trail and it was faint but just about noticeable. She made great haste to follow it as it would only get weaker the longer she left it, she made good progress but whoever had caused the disturbance must have been running on fumes by now as even she could barely feel it. Those clowns the Brotherhood of Sorcerers would send would be returning home disappointed she thought with a self-satisfied smile.

Soon however she found the smile running away from her face as she found herself unable to track the magical residue any further. She had woken up and rushed to get dressed to find the source of this disturbance only to have wasted a good night's sleep in pursuit of something that eluded her. She looked at St Gregory's bridge in front of her and the Passiflora to her right and scowled before conjuring a portal and stepping through to hopefully salvage her nights rest. What a waste of a night.

One day it was entirely possible that Philippa would curse her decision to not check further but for now she was cursing the fact that she had come. Although owing to Harry's magical exhaustion she wouldn't have had much luck even if she had looked around longer.

**1252**

Harry did not like the orphanage, in fact he hated it, the matrons were horrible and always seemed angry at the children. Stealing was punished heavily by the matrons with a number of lashes corresponding to the severity of the crime. Harry wasn't ashamed to say that he had been on the receiving end a multitude of time and who could blame him when he and the other children were fed the disgusting slop they called food only once a day.

At the age of seven he was of a similar height to most of the other children in the orphanage which was smaller than the average child who didn't live in the orphanage because they got fed with more regularity than them. Small and with little to muscle or fat described most of the children in the orphanage but they all made do, it was better than nothing.

Harry looked out at the street and watched the men and women and even the odd child walk past. He leaned against the cold stone wall of the orphanage and sank deeply into thought. Unfortunately he had barely been there for a minute before he was disturbed.

"Harry, come here you fool child" Harry looked around to see the head matron; a miserable shrew who seemed to delight in punishing the children. He pushed off the wall and strode towards her before stopping short and looking up to meet her eyes.

"Yes madam", that had been drilled into him by the matrons, always address them as such and be respectful although the older he got the more he began to wonder why they deserved his respect. The matron's face twisted into a scowl.

"Torvir tells me you convinced him that Gerd took his rabbits foot. Recommended that he go and take it back off him and give him a punch. Is that right, did you set young Torvir on Gerd?" It was and the matron probably knew that but Harry couldn't force himself to feel ashamed, Gerd was a bully who was always trying to steal Harry's food as well as the other children's. He was 10 nearly old enough to be turned out onto the streets but he still had a few weeks left, weeks which he seemed to be becoming increasingly insufferable to the other children. Torvir on the other hand was a rather thick headed boy who only cared about his rabbit's foot and would become extremely agitated without it, a gift from one of his parents Harry believed. Anyway Harry thought that stealing his rabbit's foot and dumping it on Gerd would result in a fight and both being on a tighter leash and Gerd stopping stealing until he was kicked out. Unfortunately he hadn't anticipated Torvir telling on him, an oversight on his part. Oh well, live and learn.

"Yes madam I did" he replied solemnly, he knew she had already made up her mind and lying would only make his punishment worse. She seemed to almost smile at that Harry thought as his face slowly shifted from the innocent countenance he had earlier worn to a scowl.

"Well then, ten lashes for you, can't be behaving like that Harry." Harry groaned aloud and the matron put on a nasty smile "actually now that I think about it make that fifteen, you should be accepting of your punishment Harry and it's not the first time you've tried something like this. Now then come along let's see to your punishment now while the memory is fresh" she turned away and walked back into the orphanage door creaking as she pushed it open. Harry's eyes narrowed and his fist clenched but he dutifully followed her because doing otherwise would result in a worse punishment.

Harry's eyes watered and he his face was red with effort to not cry out in pain. The madam enjoyed this, her favourite part of the job and Harry was determined not to allow her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Unfortunately however regardless of how this life might have toughened him up he was still only seven and on the fifth lash he let out tears and on the eighth he was properly crying. He tried to distract himself and soon found himself focusing on the beam of wood that he held onto while receiving his lashes. It wasn't much but it worked, along with the crying and he nearly sagged with relief when the fifteenth and final lash landed. He sank to the floor and leant against the wood and the madam left without a further word, probably disappointed that she had reached fifteen so quickly. He lay there for an hour or so and all the while his thoughts were that anywhere would be better than this even the streets. At least they didn't get beaten and he would be able to get food, Novigrad was a big city and he was fast, probably the fastest child in the orphanage. Stealing would be no problem for him.

He slowly rose to his feet and walked out being gentle with his movement because his back really hurt at the moment. He had heard tales of a man who hired children and had them stealing things for him in exchange for a bed and food. Apparently he had taken to calling himself King of Beggars, new to the scene but already causing a ruckus. Perhaps Harry would do better there than in the orphanage after all Harry was sure the King of Beggars didn't beat his thieves. Perhaps one day Harry thought as he slowly sank down into his bed which consisted of a straw pillow and a grain sack and the blanket that had arrived with him all those years ago. He settled down lying on his side and soon drifted off to sleep while dreaming of a future away from the orphanage.

**1252 June **

Four months. Four months was how much longer Harry had managed to hold out at Saint Gregory's orphanage but with each passing week he had slowly grown more and more disillusioned with the orphanage and started romanticising life on the street as a thief. Many thieves were treated with respect once they gained a certain level of status and it was this status that he hoped to attain. Status and power enough that he would never again be subject to another beating like the head matron delivered.

So with this in mind one night when the matrons slept and the moon was half visible he packed up his meagre possessions and left. His blanket being his main possession.

The first few days Harry found strangely liberating despite the stares of disgust often aimed at him, he was able to steal food and drinking water was easy considering how many communal wells there were. Sleeping did prove a challenge though as for all the orphanages faults it did have four walls and a roof. The first few nights he spent with small groups of beggars who seemed slightly sympathetic to his plight but did little more to help than offer fire and a place to sleep.

He had made no progress on finding the King of Beggars and everyone laughed him off when he asked, something Harry was getting increasingly annoyed with, he thought people like him were supposed to work for him.

Harry got up for the morning and headed off in the direction of the fish market just off of Hierarch square normally merchants had other goods such as fruit and vegetables (of varying states of edibility it must be said). The ground was muddy and puddles littered the ground all over the city except in the wealthier districts where they had elected to spend the money on cobblestone paths.

The pickings seemed pretty good today Harry thought with some happiness, market day. Everybody came on this day, that was something Harry was learning, rather than just the usual merchants who sold a barebones stock every day. He looked around and tried to figure out who was selling what and where the guards were stationed.

He thought after a couple of minutes that he had looked enough after all he was hungry and food went missing every hour of every day in Novigrad. He had picked his target, a fruit vendor who had some of the most delicious looking apples Harry had ever seen, his stomach rumbled. Yes, definitely apples. He had no use for meat or fish after all he couldn't cook but maybe if he found some good company who could cook he could share with them and use their fire. Bread too he thought as he smelt a whiff of fresh bread arriving.

With that in mind he over the course of a few hours and with careful consideration managed to steal two apples and a roll of bread and even a sweet bun. That being dealt with for the day he slunk off into the city and ate his meal away from other people who might try to steal his hard earned food. This wasn't so bad Harry thought as he ate his food, he just needed to find the King of Beggars and from there it would be an easy road to the top. This was becoming fun Harry thought.

**1252 1 month later**

Dare he say it but perhaps and this pained Harry to say it, perhaps he had spoken too soon. He was quickly discovered that no it was not as fun as he first though and was slowly becoming awful. He had no bed, hadn't washed in a week now and his clothes even longer, and was cold every night despite it being summer. Also despite his first few days going fairly well it seemed like his free trial of being a thief had run out and he now had to pay in full. Multiple times now people had taken his stolen food, mostly other orphans or thieves and should he have made any money from begging on that day it was stolen. He had now resorted to storing his money in his shoes and socks both of which were soaked from walking the wet streets, oh and to top it all off he still hadn't found the King of Beggars.

Not even two weeks ago Harry had tried to return to the orphanage but they had told him decisively no and that once you leave you can't come back. His bed had also been filled as well he thought with a sour face as he swung his legs while sitting on a bench in Hierarch Square.

As frustrated and annoyed as he was it was no mistake that he made a mistake at some point and soon found himself running from the city guard as he had been spotted while stealing another apple. He legs small but fast carried him towards the Bits an area of the city he was starting to know with increasing knowledge and an area he thought he could lose them.

He dodged in and out of the crowds of people in his way as he fled in the direction of a little cul-de-sac with a wall he was sure he could scale much faster than the city guards in their heavy plate mail. He tore round the corner into the dead end street panting and drawing in heavy intakes of air.

He stopped dead as he saw a group of men bandits perhaps, all definitely adults leaning against a wall chatting. They wore grey clothes and had bandanas covering their faces and all looked dirty and grimy as if they like Harry hadn't washed for a while. They looked up at him with little interest and then resumed talking amongst themselves.

"OUT OF THE WAY" came a scream from not too far away as the guards closed in on Harry. That startled Harry out of his stupor and he ran towards the wall and started climbing, he had gotten good at climbing recently and this wall was no real challenge to get over. His fingers had just touched the top of the wall before a large hand grasped his neck and pulled him down. Harry wriggled like an eel but the grip held tight. Harry felt all fight drain out of him. He was going to prison that was not good, not good at all. "There he is, that thief, gave us quite the run around." Harry looked around in shock the guard hadn't caught him it was the bandit looking individual. "You can release him now, we've got the little blighter" the guard said sounding inordinately pleased.

The bandit like individual reached into his pocket and counted out twenty coins and handed them to the guard "You can go now, the King of Beggars send his regards." The guard's eyes widened and he nodded before speeding out of the dead end street while looking at the coin in his hands.

"Thank you sir, thank you very much" Harry said gratefully as the hand holding him released him and he slumped against the wall. "I've no idea what I would have done if they'd caught me".

"Tell ye what lad, way I see's I just got you out o' trouble would you agree with that?" Harry nodded at that, yes without this man he may be in prison. Maybe, Harry didn't know but he'd gotten the guard off his back even if Harry felt he could have done it himself. "And ye see the twenty crowns I gave to that guard?" Harry nodded one again a little less enthusiastically this time.

"What do you want?" The bandit gave a laugh at that, not many spoke back to him like that, certainly not many children.

"What I want is to give you some work for me in order to pay me back, understand? Now lad what's your name?"

"Harry"

"Right then Harry you can call me sir, but all the other whoresons in this city call me the King of Beggars" Harry's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, he had by complete accident struck gold. "You're going to be one of my hard working street clerks, what do you say to that?" It sounded pretty good to Harry if he was being honest with himself but he did need to know two extremely important things.

"Will I get a bed and also fed" the questions were asked with more seriousness then most 7 year olds could muster but even still it was hard for the Beggar King or his flunkies to take him seriously.

"Aye you will. People like me a moving up in the world and we reward those who work hard and loyally, understand lad?" A nod. "Right then let's go, I'll have someone show you the ropes and then tell you what you got to do." With that said he strode off and Harry sped up his pace to not get lost. Perhaps things were indeed good and looking up.

**1 Week Later**

Harry rolled around on his bed and looked up to the ceiling shielding his eyes as the sun streamed in through the holes in the walls. His bed wasn't in truth much better than the one at the orphanage and there were plenty of orphans like him sleeping here, like at the orphanage yet somehow the place seemed completely different. Perhaps it was the sense of purpose that he woke up to every morning as he left to steal and pick pocket, the second of which he was still far from acceptable in.

Shaking off the haze of sleep and slowly getting out from his meagre bed he began to dress in preparation for the day's work. Once dressed he walked out of the little shack that the Beggar King or as Harry had heard him called Francis Bedlam, used to shelter his 'hard working street clerks'. The shack sat in the centre of the King of Beggars unofficial fiefdom, Putrid Grove. Harry thought the name rather unrepresentative because it was no grimier than anywhere else in the poorer side of the city and if the name was supposed to refer to the residents than they'd obviously never been here. The thieves and orphans and even the thugs seemed to have some sort of kinship or at least a mote of respect. After all they were all in the same boat near enough, poor and wanting to change that the only way they knew how.

He strode off in the direction of towards the exit which at the moment was open to the city but there had been talks Harry heard of closing it and making it exclusive to those in the service of the Beggar King. Regardless that was probably a way off and at the moment no one in Putrid Grove was powerful enough to shield Putrid Grove from the scrutiny of the rest of the city.

There was a number of people off to the side on the way out, strumpets, children who weren't proper thieves yet and muscle who kept order when they weren't drinking or playing cards.

The streets were busy as always, not that he expected anything else in a bustling city with a population of over thirty thousand. Capital of the world they called it. Size worked in favour of thieves though, no one noticed if a few things went missing and guards could be paid off. Anyway he needed to get to work and make some money.

**10 Hours later **

No money Harry thought with a grin but he had gotten something much better as he ran towards the Beggar Kings abode. Guards seemed to be awfully loose lipped in this city if they believed that no one was listening. It was as if by magic, he had been internally bemoaning his awful attempts at being a beggar which were so pitiful as to inspire in people the opposite of pity, he had been wishing that something would go right before suddenly some guards in a side alley caught his attention. One stuttered and seemed to restart as if he had been put to sleep and was waking again before turning to the other and exclaiming "Shite, we should be getting back to the barracks, me and you have a convoy tonight and I want to get to sleep before that shite show."

"Right you are, look like you need it, the fuck were you thinking about there, you're eyes went glazed, thought a witch had worked her magic on you." He guard looked concerned for his friend but his doubt was quickly assuaged.

"Nay. Nay I was just thinking of getting something to eat. This convoy is going to be murder tonight, I could be at the whore house but instead me and you have to collect a chest of crowns from that whoreson Alonso. What's he even giving the captain those crowns for." The other guard looked at him like he was stupid and Harry couldn't help but agree with that thought, the only reason that would be happening was if it was a bribe.

"You sure your mum didn't drop you on your head, serious question." He asked with a grin as the other one scowled and punched him in the arm which considering his gauntleted fist probably hurt quite a bit, oh and the guards yelp of pain probably helped with that assessment. "You bastard, that's gonna leave a bruise."

"Go pay a whore to kiss it better and remember Hierarch square at midnight, don't be late and I'll sort out the wagon and horse." With that said they both peeled off in different direction, one presumably to the barracks and the other the whorehouse. Harry got up from his hiding place again a low wall and scampered back.

That was how he found himself running up to the King of Beggars hideout and knocking frantically before barrelling in.

"What are you doin' in here, I didn't ask for you" that was the Beggar King in his normal tone and with the derision he normally seemed to have in his tone for the orphans he housed and fed.

"Sorry sir but I got some information you might like to hear", the Beggar King quirked his eyebrows before nodding for him to go ahead. He relayed everything he heard and by the end of it he was deep in thought weighing everything up.

"Ploughin' hell what are the odds eh" he said breaking the silence, "been here a week and you've already found something useful. A chest requiring a wagon and horse must be some bribe from Wiley."

"So what is it a payment for the year or something then?" Harry asked quizzically, the Beggar King looked back at him with a strange look.

"Smart one aren't you eh, most would have asked for their gold and sodded off by now but not you. Ah that reminds me what is it you want then for having brought me this information. Money, a better bed, clothes?" Harry looked hard into his eyes before replying.

"I want to learn to read" that got laughter from everyone in the room apart from the Beggar King who looked interested by that.

"What d'ya want that for boy plan to become a ploughin' author" one of the henchmen lurking in the back said with a laugh. The King of Beggars turned to him with anger which actually surprised him.

"Right, you" he said pointing a finger at the man who had just spoken" get out and go take a fucking walk, the boy wants to learn to read and learn to read he shall. Provided he isn't a complete idiot." The thug shot a dark look at Harry in what he probably thought was a discreet way but everyone noticed. Harry didn't care though, he met his stare and was internally jumping for joy, he was going to learn to read, a small step on his journey to respect and power but it would open up many opportunities. Perhaps he thought with childish glee that he and the Beggar King could work together like partners when he became a higher up like him.

"Thank you sir" Harry said hoping to convey how grateful he was without making himself look stupid or overly expressive. "What will you do with the money then?" he asked curiously. That earned him a look of annoyance from the King of Beggars.

"As far as you're concerned it's none of your business alright and you'd do well to forget about this chest of money. Harry was it?" a nod "right then Harry as far as everyone in this room is concerned they've already forgotten about this chest and you should too. Got it? Don't speak about the fucking chest of money." Harry nodded again more eagerly this time.

"What chest" he said with a grin.

"That's the spirit, now get back to your bed Harry, oh and you'll come here every third night to learn to read from now on." Harry nodded eagerly and walked out of the room taking all the control he had not to jump and whoop in glee. He couldn't believe he had ever doubted the wisdom of leaving the orphanage.

**1252 August 16****th**

It had been a number of weeks since that incident and while nothing of that scale had happened again yet he was still doing pretty well, he had studied a little bit from other beggars and had managed to craft a façade that actually made people feel sorry for him and occasionally give him some beggar's alms. Also he had become better at thieving which was something he took pride in, he had even managed to pickpocket someone a few days ago, a skill which was particularly difficult to manage in a city where everyone checked their purse strings after being bumped into.

Also he had recently heard that one of Alonso Wiley's transport convoys had been robbed but from what he had heard on the street no one seemed to know who it was. Harry was pretty sure that the King of Beggars had been the one responsible for the theft but he couldn't prove that and had no desire to as the man had been good to him so far. In the last week or so Putrid Grove had been done up a bit and a gate had been added to the entrance and you now needed a password to enter, something Harry was pretty sure was the result of Alonso Wiley's money. It wasn't something he dwelt upon often as he doubted it would ever come up again, Alonso would slowly loosen his search for his missing crowns and people would forget it had happened in a few months or so. At least that's what Harry hoped would happen because if it didn't it was likely the King of Beggars far smaller outfit of crooks would be shattered and dispersed by Wiley.

On happier thoughts though he was learning to read now being taught by some of the smarter men that worked for the King of Beggars and he had taken to it like a duck to water something he was very pleased with. It came naturally to him and he thought a little more time and he would have it down he thought. He had also started doing basic maths something which had annoyed a couple of his 'tutors' but the King of Beggars who had been nearby had spoken up and told them to teach him. That was something that made him feel warm inside, he got the feeling that he saw some promise in him and was trying to nurture his talent which only pushed him to excel in order to please him. His lessons in numeracy had only started 3 or so sessions ago but that too was going fairly well, numbers weren't too bad and he might have a future running the books for a business if he wished it.

Regardless now was his self-appointed time off and he was going to spend it in far corners as he had heard that they usually hosted fights here something which he was eager to see. He had brought along a few crowns which perhaps he could use to bet with, he figured that it would be fairly fun and might even earn some money and well if he lost it's not like he would be losing anything he wasn't prepared to lose.

The crowd was fairly large, about fifty people give or take and they all seemed to be shouting boisterously and drinking and exchanging small sacks of coins. It looked brilliant Harry thought and pushed forward to get a better view of the fighting. Both men in the ring were of slightly larger than average height and weight and Harry thought it looked fairly even. Sadly it was over fairly quickly as one hit the ground after a hard punch to his jaw, he was a little disappointed but some other people took such a quick match much harder than others. Such as the tall elven boy who seemed to be about 12 or 13.

"That was shite" he groused "one day I'll be champion of Novigrad not these human idiots".

"Durden shut your mouth" that came from another elf who was older and taller than the young elf, probably his father he thought a little wistfully. "Show some respect to the fighters, it's rude to speak of them like that. They're fighting for our entertainment."

"Sorry father" replied the elf, Durden. That seemed to be the end of that and no one else seemed to have listened into this short exchange other than Harry. The rest of the evening proved to be good fun and there were a few more fights, Harry even made a few crowns betting even if he did get some odd looks from people.

It was with a bright smile he returned to Putrid Grove for the night to settle down for bed, but when he entered he could immediately tell something was wrong. He planned to go to his room and ask one of the other orphans but before he could get in he was grabbed by one of the King of Beggars thugs and told to follow him. When he entered the defacto headquarters he could tell it was serious, the place was filled with about 15 people and the King of Beggars of himself, all eyes turned to Harry when he entered. He felt butterflies in his stomach, had he done something wrong? These were the sorts of thoughts flying through his head as he came to a stop a few meters in front of the door.

"We can begin" that was the King of Beggars and he seemed even more curt and to the point now than Harry had ever seen him. He reached down beside him and picked up a bag which dripped red fluid from it. He tossed it to Harry who caught it with shaky hands. "Open it" and he did and what he saw made him feel sick to his stomach, a real human head. Eyes wide open and bloodshot, face morphed in an expression of terror. He threw up all over the floor and his shoes. He collapsed to his knees and dry heaved. It took him a minute or so to regain some semblance of composure and he pushed the head away from him as it rolled on the floor settled at a henchman's feet. "That's one of my men, we received this from old Alonso Wiley this afternoon. He found out about the chest and he wants his money back." He looked down at Harry who was still resting on his knees near a pile of his own sick. "You understand how serious this is?" Harry nodded.

"Yes sir" re rasped out, his voice dry and he could taste how horrible his breath was right now. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"Someone in this room told Wiley about the chest and now a good man is dead because of that. Did you tell anyone of the chest Harry." He shook his fervently.

"No, no I never. I haven't talked about it since I told you about it, I promise you sir."

"You're ambitious Harry, I know that, wanting to learn to read, learn numbers. Probably imagine yourself in a position like mine someday, that right? Is that what Alonso promised you?" He looked dead serious now and Harry was starting to panic again his shirt feeling tighter than ever around him, like a straight jacket.

"Sir I promise, I swear I never told anyone you've got to believe me." It didn't seem to sway anyone though and impassive looks were all he could see directed at him.

"See I've been told that you were seen in Wiley's district. Makes it quite hard to believe what you say don't you think."

"Lies, I never went near that area of the city. Whoever told you that is a lying bastard." The King turned to another man who Harry recognised, the one who had laughed at him and made a comment when he said he wanted to learn to read.

"What do you say to that Hank, the boy says you're lying and I've no way to prove it either way. So here's what I'm going to do, I'm going to order both your rooms searched and we'll see what we find eh." That sounded fair to Harry and he slowly rose to his feet careful not to get any sick on him as that would be most unpleasant. "You two" he said pointing at two thugs to the right of Harry, "go search their rooms and report back to me." They left swiftly and the one called Hank turned to the King of Beggars.

"We really need to do this? It's obvious it was the boy, just kill him and be done with it."

"The evidence will speak for itself and if it doesn't then you're both going out onto the streets." Harry swallowed and so did Hank, droplets of sweat could be seen forming on his forehead. The King of Beggars tuned to Harry and looked down at the pile of sick "clean that up while we wait eh? It starting to stink and you" he said pointing to another henchman on the side "take that head and go bury it or burn it, I don't care which I just want it out of here. Everyone else stay here, while we wait for those two log heads to come back." That got a few chuckles from some people and also signalled the start of a fairly long and uncomfortable wait for Harry. He cleaned his mess of the floor and then slumped against the wall whilst sat in waiting. About an hour later they burst in solemn looks on their faces.

"Well who done it?" That was one of the henchmen off to the side. They looked at the King of Beggars for permission who gave a nod before they finally spoke.

"We found fuck all in the boys room, but we found this sack of coin in Hanks room" he produced a fairly fat sack of coin and chucked it to the King of Beggars who caught it and started pacing the room in consternation.

"You guard this place Hank, what the fuck are you doing holding a sack of coin this big, know what forget I already know the answer." Hank by this point look petrified but remained silent "You two hold him" two men on either side of him grabbed onto his arms and held him steadily in place, it was at this point that he broke into begging for his life.

"Please, I know what I done was wrong but I had no idea that he would kill someone for it. Please let me go I'll do anything, I'll work for free; I'll earn more money than anyone else. Just please for the love of Melitele give me another chance." He was snivelling by this point and fat tear drops were streaming down his face.

"Hank I've already given you a chance you filthy fucking rat" this was the first time Harry had seen him lose his temper and he could see why people didn't mess with him. He pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his heart before leaving it there. He gasped and tried to shake off the two men but he was weak and his lifeblood was slowly draining away, soaking his clothes. He was dead in seconds. "You two take this body and dump it tonight, and bring back my ploughing dagger and don't drip any blood on this floor, it'd be murder to get it out of this wood." He turned to Harry and looked down at him. "Seems your name has been cleared doesn't it. Just remember that this is what happens to the imbeciles that cross me, remember that and we'll be fine." Harry nodded still shocked at what had happened. "Now get out of here and get to ploughing bed, oh and take this. For your troubles" he tossed Harry the sack of coin which he caught and muttered a quick thank you. He turned towards the door but stopped before walking through as he thought up a question he thought might be a little bit important to him.

"What's going to happen with Wiley?"

"We come to terms with him, pay him back his money that's what." Harry nodded at that before leaving tired and shaken by that experience. He left the building less innocent than when he entered and he couldn't say that he was happy about that. Hopefully the sick feeling he had would disappear after a good nights sleep. Only one way to find out, he thought as he slipped the coin under his pillow and rearranged his ruffled up bed. Sleep now thoughts later.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First off I want to say that I'm very sorry this took so long to come out I have no excuse other than laziness. That being said thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed the first chapter. I will try to update sooner next time but I won't promise anything. Disclaimer for this chapter, there is in the first 3 paragraphs a rape scene, I've tried to make as short and as undetailed as I can but it's still there. It's only there to move the plot forward and it won't be a repeat thing if anyone is worried about that. **

**Chapter 2**

**1252 September 5****th**

Thirty thousand people with in the walls of Novigrad and the nearby farms just beyond the walls. Within those thirty thousand there was bound to be some undesirables and in a city like Novigrad where there was such a disconnect between the rich and the poor that number was likely to be inflated as a result of desperation. What Harry was witnessing now though couldn't be chalked up to desperation; it was more along the lines of human degeneracy. He had heard people did this but to actually be witnessing it made him feel sick to his stomach. A young elven woman was lying in the ground as a man rutted into her from above all while she screamed and yelped like a stuck pig. The man had a couple of friends nearby who looked a little tired; Harry guessed that they had been taking a turn with the woman earlier.

The woman was pinned down with a hand around her throat and she seemed to be struggling to draw breath. He was disgusted, people had told him to avoid these sorts of situations as they could only end badly for one as young as him but now he was in that situation he couldn't just walk away and leave her like this. He needed a plan though, he couldn't just run up to them and punch them out he was only 8 after all. What could he do, this was a relatively quiet part of the city and everyone who could possibly intervene had scurried off into their homes to avoid a beating. A thought that immediately ran through his mind was to offer to pay someone to intervene or to offer the men payment to stop. A flawless plan he thought for all of a second before remembering the scarcity of people at this time in the evening and the distinct lack of coin on his person. He could offer to pay them with his stored coin but would they believe him, he was very young and children in Novigrad didn't have a reputation for being honest and trustworthy. Nothing was coming to mind, he tried thinking of a solution but he wasn't the King of Beggars, he had no idea what to do. Wait a minute. Oh that was good, the King of Beggars, surely they would listen if he told them that the King of Beggars would punish them if they didn't stop, with what his eight year old mind considered a solid plan he went over to them.

"Stop" that got their attention "leave her alone!" that got the two out of three men laughing uproariously but the one holding the woman down seemed less amused at the interruption and pulled out, pulled up his trousers and stood to face Harry. The woman by this point had run out of oxygen and was unconscious and Harry had just now noticed the small form of a young elven boy lying on the floor bleeding.

"He tried to stop us too y'know? Didn't like what we was doing to his whore mam."

"She's not a whore" wheezed the boy weakly, his strength almost gone; it looked like they'd kicked the stuffing out of him.

"She's an elf, to me and my boys that's the same thing." He grinned nastily before continuing "elves walk around the forest naked playing their fucking flutes and I'm to believe they don't enjoy a rough shag," He let out a laugh at that which made Harry's blood boil. How could people like this even exist and hold any power in the world. He would contemplate the state of the world later but now he needed to help the elven woman and her son.

"The King of Beggars, I work for the King of Beggars. He doesn't want anyone messing around on his streets so you should get out of here before his men catch on." The men looked to each other before laughing.

"Ha, King of Beggars will be a smear on the ground a'fore the end of the month, Wiley will bugger him sideways. Now scram, that name is the only reason we ain't gonna beat you like that little flute player"

"I can pay you. Good money, fifty crowns just to leave this woman and her son alone. I need only get it from my bedroom." That got a slight consideration from them but it didn't look like it was going to sway them.

"Nah, see me and my boys we've been having such fun for free here, but with 50 crowns we can barely get a whore for a couple of hours each. So no deal now fuck off back to your master you little shit cause he's the only thing saving you from a mighty beating." Harry furrowed his brow in anger and clenched his fist.

"What are your names then, because I'll remember them and one day when I grow up I'll kill you and show your dead bodies to this woman." He spoke with more confidence than he felt but he did mean the words that he said. He would kill these men one day, even if he couldn't stop them now. No doubt calling bullshit on his ridiculous bravado they laughed harder than he had ever seen anyone ever laugh, tears were streaming down one man's cheeks and they were gasping for air at the absurdity of his claim. He felt his anger elevate to never before seen levels, they committed such a heinous act and then laughed like he told the funniest joke ever when he tried to stop them. A pang of something he didn't know about welled in his gut, definitely anger but maybe something more too. Eventually the one who Harry assumed to be the de facto leader managed to calm himself enough to speak.

"Is that so eh? You'll kill us hah course you will you little runt. Well then I think I've been generous until now but you've used up my patience. Me and my boys are gonna kick the shit outta ya, but first." He withdrew his dagger from its leather sheathe and plunged it into the elven woman's heart. "We'd had our fun with her anyway, no point keepin' her around, she'll just tell the guard and that'll be no fun for us." Harry sank to his knees, he'd failed and the elven woman would have been better off if he'd just left it all alone, damaged sure but alive and able to look after her son.

"Right lets teach this whelp a lesson eh lads" the three surrounded him and all lashed out in quick succession with kicks which sent him tumbling to the floor and he soon found himself in a small ball as kicks rained down on his small form more viciously than he could handle. He'd never felt such pain or brutality, the orphanage was bad but this was on a whole other level. He wished he'd never got involved, he wished he'd never tried to intervene, he wished he was smarter, older and wiser. But most of all he wished they would leave him alone that they would stop beating him and kicking him. He wanted them to PISS OFF.

Then he was answered as the eldritch power that he carried within him since birth lashed out, heavy and oppressive in its power and deeply protective. All three men were sent hurtling through the air at break neck speed which was exactly what happened. Three sickening cracks echoed out as they connected with the walls of houses, their necks now at odd angles and their faces captured in the expressions of satisfaction they'd held moments before death. He breathed and stayed curled in his small little protective ball. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realise he wasn't being kicked any more but when he did he opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings to see what had happened. Nothing he could see from his position so he rolled onto his back and waited a minute or two to gather back some semblance of strength so he wouldn't fall over when standing up. With shaky legs like a new-born foal he made it to his feet and set off in the direction of the three bodies of the vile scum responsible for the evenings sickening nature. Dead, even he could tell that without any healing training or knowledge, their necks were at odd angles and they lay un-naturally still. Despite his pledge to kill them he was in no way prepared for the feelings of guilt and self-loathing he felt as he looked at the three dead men, after all disgusting rapists and murderers they may have been but at the end of the day they were still people. If not for this weird interference as a result of the occult the men probably would have beaten him half to death or perhaps even far enough to push him over that tenuous line.

He turned back to the elven woman and boy, there would be time to pity himself later but now he needed to get them to a healer, to make sure they were alright. He walked to the woman and bent down next to her to see if she was breathing, nothing. Dead, confirmation on what he already knew but he still felt hot tears drip down his cheeks as he thought on what he could have done and how much life she must have had ahead of her. He stayed sunken on his knees, mud and whatever other foul things mixed in which he didn't want to think about now slowly succumbing to his weight and enveloping them in a disgusting concoction. He crawled on his knees from beside the woman to her son and found he was still breathing, finally he thought solemnly. Finally something had gone his way on this shit, awful disgusting day, and to think it had started out so innocuously. In the future he would regard this as a divergence of paths. In another world where the boy also died it would have compounded his misery and taught him that helping people was pointless and banal leading him down a dark and cruel path.

He turned the boy over to his back and looked at him, he had multiple cuts and bruises but he didn't look as bad as his mother. His hair, a dark brown colour was matted to his face and mud decorated the back of his head and much of his clothes. He definitely had elven blood in him but he was certainly more than a quadroon though. Most likely a half blood then he internally declared. He didn't know much about healing but he did know one thing was key to life, breathing. He looked at his chest and saw small compressions of the chest and low almost unnoticeable exhales accompanying them. How long he would continue to breathe he didn't know but the best he could think of was to get the boy to Vilmerius hospital.

With a goal now in mind he decided to get to work, Vilmerius was about a ten minute walk unimpeded but carrying the elven boy Harry thought he wouldn't be there within the hour. He put his arms under the boys armpit and started dragging him in the direction he knew to be Vilmerius. Progress was slow as expected fortunately the boy was smaller even than Harry so he could just about bear the weight. Each slow step backwards became easier and he allowed his mind to drift as he pushed towards Vilmerius.

The main thing occupying his mind was the stunning revelation that he was a mage or at the very least some sort of magical oddity. It was incredible even if the reason he uncovered it was still rather raw and bitter. He could do so much with it, power like mages were reported to have in his hands, he could save so many lives and change the world… incredible. It was at that moment he tripped over a pothole in the road tumbling to the floor, a lesson to pay attention he thought anxiously as he looked to make sure the elven boy was okay. He was no worse than when Harry started moving him but it motivated him to put the immense consequences of becoming a mage to the side.

It took a long time to get anywhere close to where he wanted to go and he only got as far as he did because a kind stranger offered to help him move the boy. The man who offered to help was quite odd and Harry had never seen anyone like him before, he was tall maybe 6'2 and had short cropped brown hair and a handsome face. The most distinguishing features were his amber cat like eyes that Harry had never seen the like of and the pair of swords strapped to his back. Why he offered to help Harry didn't know but he certainly wasn't about to reject or go asking questions. When asked where they were going Harry had told him they were going to Vilmerius hospital. Soon they made it, in no small part due to the man who practically carried him solo for the majority of the way. Harry opened the door and the man carried the elven boy in and put him in a spare bed nearest the door. A man in his forties hurried over to the three of them and begun to speak.

"Witcher, what's this you've brought me a pair of recruits perhaps?" he seemed a tad amused at the prospect but Harry having heard about Witchers and the training they went through was little green at the thought. The Witcher as Harry now knew him spoke next.

"It's Eskel, School of the Wolf and I don't know either of them. Just doing my good deed for the day" he was dry and if he hadn't have helped Harry he really would have believed the man didn't care.

"Hmm" the man hummed in thought "very well, I am Chief Surgeon here Joachim Von Gratz, let's see what you've brought me then." He turned his attention to the elven boy and Harry in turn looked to the Witcher.

"Thank you sir" he truly was grateful, it was nice to see that Novigrad wasn't as morally bankrupt as he'd previously thought. There was some gold beneath the shit.

"Don't mention it kid. Hope your friend get better." With that he turned away and walked out the door. He turned back to the surgeon to see if anything was happening there.

"Witcher's" he mumbled "So curt and abrasive" Harry wasn't sure if he'd agree there seeing as he'd only met one but they were reputed to be emotionless monster killing machines. He had seemed like a nice enough guy beneath that though. The good doctor continued his inspection of the young elven boy and Harry stood and watched in mild fascination. That fascination started wearing off after about 10 minutes and in 20 he was fidgety and by the time 45 minutes was up he was veering into mind numbingly bored territory. He was only eight in his defence and resultantly he couldn't help burst out the question he'd been holding in for since the doctor got to work.

"So" he asked anxiously his feet tapping on the hard wood floor "is he going to be okay or not?" he couldn't conceal how nervous he was at the imminent answer.

"He has multiple points of blunt force trauma and seems to be bleeding internally. Something that I can't do anything about. Operation would most certainly result in his death" he spoke the words as they were, facts as immutable as the fact that water is blue. Harry took on a despondent air at this and his shoulders slumped and his head drooped.

"So he's dead then." Anger welled in him, this man had been the one that could have saved him, and he didn't know anyone else who could be of any use. His anger sizzled beneath his skin and the tools nearby shook a little and rattled slightly something that surprised the man but he ignored and pushed on.

"Maybe, maybe not. I cannot help but I don't have the blessing of magic at my disposal. There is a sorceress of some renown here in the city that is heralded as a great healer, able to heal almost any wound. She may be able to help this boy." Harry was instantly back on alert at that and snapped to attention like a slack rope being pulled taut.

"So when can she get here then" he asked glee almost radiating off of him. The answering frown put a little caution in him now though.

"She may not be interested in politics but she no doubt doesn't work for free, hence her reputation as a seductress. She will likely ask for payment, her time won't be free and I doubt she will relish travelling across the city." Harry couldn't see how these were problems though and he voiced as such.

"I have money saved up" he stated confidently, surely 50 crowns would do splendidly, he didn't know any people at Putrid Grove who wouldn't go out of their way for that sum of money. He then moved to address the next point "Also we can go to her can't we, we can both carry him." Joachim frowned at this.

"I cannot leave my other patients unattended the needs of the one cannot outweigh the many who rely on my presence here." Fine then it seemed he would have to convince her to come to Vilmerius then.

"Okay what should I tell her is wrong with him then, she will need to know won't she. To bring the right tools." Joachim nodded at that and walked over to a small desk and dipped a quill in ink and started writing, probably some medical mumbo jumbo Harry thought impatiently. He wrote for multiple minutes and then got another piece of parchment and started what looked to Harry's eyes like doodling. He was glad to be proven wrong however when he saw the second piece was a rudimentary map of some kind. He finished writing then walked up to Harry with both parchment piece's.

"This details everything I can determine is wrong with the boy" he said holding up the parchment in his left hand "and this is directions to the Passiflora." he held up another parchment in his other hand. Harry for his part was slightly shocked, he may only be 8 but he knew sure as the sun rose in the east that the Passiflora was a whore house. He decided to share that; surely the other man couldn't think anyone who could help would willingly stay there.

"Err that's a whore house, you know that right. Do you mean that somewhere else right?" he wasn't too embarrassed talking about sex even at his young age, honestly if public sex was a capital punishment half of Novigrad would be gone. That earned a derisive snort from Von Gratz.

"I'm well aware of what it is but make no mistake the Passiflora is far beyond any mud covered peasant, only the richest are welcome. Falka herself planned her ill-fated rebellion there. As to why Mrs Södergren has chosen to stay there I can only assume it has to do with her reputed taste for the carnal." Harry was a bit confused by this what was the carnal was it like sex? Maybe it was a wine or a delicacy from far away that's only served in the Passiflora. Regardless it wasn't important he needed to go now. Every minute wasted here was a minute that the elf boy edged closer to death.

He took the parchment and muttered a brief thank you. He tucked the one for the mage away and looked at the Passiflora map. He may know its name but undesirables like him weren't welcome there so he needed to refresh his mind as to its location. It seemed near St Gregory's which was good as it wasn't too far from the orphanage. Only the bridge acted rather as a diving line everything to the right was higher class and more exclusive and the rest was a lot of stinking shit and poverty. He hurried off with his general timing and ran through the city in pretty good time he supposed. The midnight streets of Novigrad were relatively quiet; perhaps no one was in the mood for boozing he thought with a grin. Nah, the walls of Novigrad would fall before that happened, just luck then.

The building was magnificent and there was an orange glow given off by the burning candles that made it look magnificent. He didn't particularly have time to admire the beautiful building exterior or dwell on it storied history though so he hurried inside.

"Oi! What are you doing here kiddie." That came from one of the whores and it didn't surprise him after all a child wasn't a common occurrence in a whore house, especially not one like the Passiflora. He was in a rush but he was aware if he didn't explain he would be out on his arse, with that in mind he picked out Joachim Von Gratz's parchment and held it up.

"I need to speak to Marti Södergren, someone needs her help and they'll die otherwise". The whores looked between each other and more than a few shrugs were thrown about before the one who had asked why he was there spoke up.

"Alright we'll go and see her but no promises and if she's busy then you'd best leave. Also don't disturb the customers, they're paying good money for their enjoyment and a lot of them pay for the privilege of not being disturbed by the likes of you. Understood?" he nodded "well then let's get this over with."

"Thank you" he spoke simply, she didn't seem in the mood to trade words with him for any extended length of time. With silence descending on the pair he decided to look around the building and if he thought the exterior was something to behold then the interior was something else entirely. Beautiful polished wood, expensive fabrics and furniture that looked more expensive than some houses around Putrid Grove. There was an aroma of perfume in the air that hung heavy on his senses, like it was trying to conceal something, he didn't know what and when he did eventually find out he was smelling the aroma of tens of people coupling he would wish he could return to his current ignorance. Regardless he dutifully followed her along and tried not to listen to intently to the moans or banging coming from the rooms he walked past. Eventually after reaching the top floor they came to a stop outside a door and the whore knocked.

"Marti, someone here needs to see you, says it's urgent. Something about a patient."

"One minute" shuffling was heard in the room and after a few seconds a woman came to the door. She was beautiful that was the first thing that Harry noticed, beautiful brown eyes, fiery red hair, high cheek bones and a beauty beyond the scope of most ordinary women. Although she did look a little frazzled but Harry put it down to the fact she may have been trying to get to sleep. She also looked fairly pissed off at having to answer the door at this time. She was covered in what was obviously expensive floral patterned night dress that was tied together by a silk band.

"What is it hmmm? I'm done for the day darling and I asked not to be disturbed." The whore gestured down to the Harry who was holding Von Gratz's parchment in his hand "ah, I see, very well come on in. I wish to be done with this quickly." Harry shuffled into the room as the sorceress moved out of the door frame. The whore made to follow them in but the sorceress extended a hand. "Thank you Eliza but I think I can deal with this adorable little boy by myself. Why don't you invite Marco in my room there for a drink, hmm?"

"Are you sure?" the whore now identified as Eliza answered perplexed as to why one of the sorceresses conquests was being kicked out.

"Oh I'm quite sure. Unfortunately he was all bluster and rather unsatisfactory." The whore chuckled at that and nodded. The sorceress having now finished that little conversation turned back to Harry who realising this was his time to talk extended the parchment to her and began to talk.

"There's an elven boy and he was attacked by some men, they killed his mother and left him for dead. Beat him with their feet and fists." He was slightly omitting the truth but she didn't need to know that his mother had been raped and killed or that he had killed them with a fit of magic and fortunately she didn't seem interested. She was too busy reading the parchment in her hands and muttering out the occasional piece of medical jargon that Harry didn't have the foggiest clue about.

"This is from Doctor Von Gratz hmm? Very skilled from what I've heard if not quite controversial after Tretogor." Harry was pretty confused about that he had seemed like a good man if a little brusque but he supposed everyone could have secrets. He had a big one now after all. "Hmm well I might be able to help with this after all provided this" she held up the parchment "isn't wrong."

"Great so let's go then, it's just at Vilmerius hospital; it's only a 30 minute walk."

"I can save him but the medical supplies needed will be quite costly and I'm not prepared to do this for free, supplies aren't cheap after all." That was okay, he knew almost nothing was for free.

"So what you want money to save him?" she nodded.

"Say one hundred and fifty crowns, I expect that should cover it." Harry's eyes went wide, who did she think he was he was 8.

"Are you crazy I haven't got that kind of money, I can give you fifty, that's all I've got" It seems he had severely overestimated how far his 50 crowns was going to get him.

"Then it will simply be a donation because I will do nothing to help this boy unless you can get me one hundred and fifty crowns. I became a healer because I wished to help people but you have to understand, I can't treat people without supplies and they cost money. It is for better or worse the way of the world, coin is king. I will gladly help the boy but only if I know that it won't financially unbalance me enough that I can't help others who need help." Harry glared at her but she didn't back down and seemed firm on her position.

"Well then why don't I just go to another healer then, surely they will do it cheaper. One hundred and fifty crowns to heal a beating! I've heard of people who do it for free or at least a lot less."

"Then the boy will die, he boy is bleeding inside, that means no bandages or spirit will be able to heal his wounds. It will require powerful magic and healing supplies to ensure he lives through it." Harry collapsed back into his seat, he felt helpless. What was he to do, where on earth would he get 150 crowns from, he was a thief and in this city nobody carried any more than twenty crowns at any one time. He had gotten better at pickpocketing but he had no illusions that he could pick 100 crowns in the amount of time the elf had left. His shoulders slumped in defeat, the boy he had saved would die and he would have to live with his failure forever.

"All is not lost hmm" that was Marti, "although the price may seem steep I have a possible way one such as yourself will be able obtain such an amount of money." Now that caught his attention, how an earth would she be able to help him find one hundred crowns. "Many men come here to get treated; some injured others faking it to see me, but regardless all of them talk while getting treated. One of the men I had here today told me an interesting story in fact. A man they call the King of Beggars, a crime boss rising up, well he's gathered up a large amount of coin see and he's left it out for all to see apparently."

"I work for the King of Beggars, he feeds me, gives me a place to sleep and he helped me learn to read, write and do numeracy. I can't steal from him; he's been good to me." He was adamant that he wouldn't steal from him.

"Then the boys care will go no further and he will die. The resources to save this boy could be better spent on tens of other patients. Either way it's up to you to make the choice." He thought back to everything he had done to ensure that the boy would live, he had quite literally killed to see it so, not intentionally but he wouldn't forget what he'd done in a hurry. Then he thought about the King of Beggars and everything that he had done for Harry, sure most of it could arguably be put down to him investing in the future and understanding the worth that orphans could possess but he hadn't needed to let them keep some of the money and he hadn't needed to protect them from outside elements. The man definitely had some good in him Harry thought, but did his kindness and generosity outweigh his moral compulsion to help the innocent elven boy. It was a hard decision but given the fact he sacrificed his innocence to save the boy he couldn't not see it through now, his hands were bloody and if he quit now it would have been for nothing. Besides he could pay it back even if it did take years. His resolve not to steal from the man who had brought him in from the streets finally crumbled and with that in mind he turned to the sorceress and spoke.

"Go on then, tell me more about the money." So she did, from what she understood it was rather pitifully protected. In the tavern sort of area at the end of putrid grove and up the stairs there was a table where the higher ups played cards, mostly poker and more recently a new game called Gwent that was experiencing a meteoric rise too. He began to formulate a plan within his mind and found the answer was laughably simple in reality. The tavern was never locked and not a night went by without the inhabitants getting pissed there or at some other establishment nearby. It would probably just be a case of going in checking around and taking the money. As long as he was quiet and didn't make too much noise he would in all likelihood be absolutely fine. He would need to be very careful though because if he got caught he'd be in some pretty bad trouble. Ranging from whipping to having his lessons cancelled he thought. His thoughts on his potential punishment were horrendously naïve.

"Will you go and help him then and I'll go and get the money?" she better he thought bitterly he was risking a lot and he didn't want to work on her timetable any more than he had to.

"Of course, even if you dislike what I'm asking you to do you'll soon learn that it's the way of the world. Everyone has to make sacrifices." The words were probably meant to make him feel better but he just felt angry and a little confused about the meaning behind that. More mature he may have been but at 8 he certainly wasn't a perfect paragon of comprehension. "I'll meet you at Vilmerius and get to work on the boy, call it good faith if you will." With that she got up and started gathering some medical supplies and Harry left through the open door, he guessed Eliza or whatever must have taken Marti's paramour out of the room at some point in the conversation. Time to go steal from the King of Beggars, how fun he thought sardonically.

**1 hour later**

Harry mused at how easy it had been to steal the coin he needed, perhaps he could suggest improvements to the King of Beggars when he realised that a mysterious and random and skilled thief had stolen from him. There had been no one on the door that kept Putrid Grove segregated from the rest of Novigrad and as a result he simply breezed in it had been like that all the way through, he recollected happily. He'd looked in through the windows of the tavern and everyone had been passed out on the tables or the floor. Treading lightly he had entered and ascended the stairs to where the gold would likely be kept. Sure enough it was there, sitting in a small chest looked to be thousands of crowns. He looked at his small sack, it contained his fifty crowns and began counting out one hundred coins, placing each in gently so as not to raise too much noise. There was two doors nearby and one of them was the King of Beggars room so being quiet was exceptionally important right now. He was certainly glad for his small form as it made stealthy motions much easier than they might have otherwise been. With one hundred of the King of Beggars coins and his own fifty that he had kept stored for the future he had the required amount.

He tied the bag shut and held the bag at the bottom so as to reduce the clinking of coin, he tip toed down stairs and they gently tugged the door open, from there he picked up his pace a little. Him being out at this time would be an unusual sight and surely something people would take note of if they saw him. The entire escapade felt too easy, perhaps he was just that good he thought with a massive grin adrenaline flowing through his system from what he'd just done. He didn't run to Vilmerius, that would have been silly and instead he walked as fast as he could keeping the bag firmly in his grasp. At what was now the early hours of the morning the streets were all but deserted apart from the odd drunk and the occasional guard party which he diligently made sure to avoid. Eventually he got to Vilmerius which was still illuminated by the soft glow of torches flickering in the night.

"I've got it!" he announced with excitement. Doctor Von Gratz scowled and shushed him motioning to the other patients which were sleeping. "Oh right sorry." His cheeks were tinged red with his embarrassment but he was pretty excited, he had after all ensured the elven boy would receive lifesaving care. He turned to the sorceress who seemed to be working some sort of magic judging by the tether of soft blue magic flowing from her hand into the boy. He placed the money down on a small wooden bedside table "so is he nearly better then?" That got him a scowl from the sorceress who did look pleased at having to talk right now.

"It will require more time but I think his full recovery is definitely on the table, now no more questions this spell requires much concentration." That was the end of that he supposed and he took the opportunity to sit down on a chair a little way away. He would watch diligently to see how she healed him, after all he wouldn't forget the fact he had magic any time soon, healing magic would be good to know. He stifled a yawn, perhaps he should take a quick 15 minute nap, that way he could recuperate a bit and then learn how she did it with a clearer mind. Yes he thought a quick nap will do the trick.

**The next morning**

He awoke to the sound of the town halls bell ringing and light streaming through the window. Seems he slept for a little bit longer than 15 minutes he thought ruefully. He looked around a little blearily and wiped his eyes in an effort to wake himself up faster. Ah they were both still here then he saw Von Gratz was moving around looking at his patients and the sorceress Marti Södergren was busy packing up her supplies it seemed.

"Is he healed then?" that didn't elicit much reaction from her at fast and she turned around to look at him before speaking.

"Indeed he is but he will require a few days more bedrest. He's not even woken up yet. Vilmerius will care for him for a few days more and then he will be released. Now I need to return to the Passiflora, I need a good bed to sleep on." With that she picked up her supplies and walked to the door and opened it before stopping and turning to Von Gratz. "Chief surgeon Von Gratz, it was a pleasure to work with you, your dedication to the art of healing is inspiring" before walking out the door without hearing the man's reply.

Harry didn't disturb the man as he was studying his patient's health and so he left and decided to return later the same day. Best to get to work then back to Putrid Grove; hopefully no one would know he was missing. He walked to his usual areas of thieving and pickpocketing, busy but not too polluted with guards.

He did hear some information that made him feel a little ill though; apparently they had discovered the bodies of the three men he had killed in the early hours of this morning. That was still something he was trying to reconcile with, obviously they deserved death for what they did but him actually doing it still didn't feel at all right. He'd need to devote more time to thinking about it later. At least people didn't seem to upset they were dead, they'd been thugs and bullies and one person he overheard even said it was a long time coming. Most of the comments seemed to be of the mind that a Witcher might be in need to kill what was speculated to be a monster, he hoped the one he'd met during last night, Eskel wasn't sent to investigate that would be unpleasant.

The day went okay and sure he seemed a little shaky at some points but he guessed it was just the jitters from what he'd done that night. Overall he racked in 6 crowns, some food and a Gwent card of dubious worth. He returned to Putrid Grove mildly worried and anxious. He'd been careful so they surely wouldn't know it was him. He gave in what he'd earnt during the day minus the food and two crowns, he could keep 1/3 of what he'd brought that was the rule. The place seemed rather quiet which unnerved Harry and in his current state of mind he was instantly on alert. He went to his room and spoke to a couple of the other orphans in there and asked them what was going on. They didn't know much other than the fact the King of Beggars and about seven other people had left with him at around midday in a horse drawn cart. He decided to not focus too much on it and went to the loft were no one ever really went and started eating his stolen goods. He focused on the revelation he had magic, a small smile playing on his face. He would have to find somewhere safe to practise his magic away from prying eyes, the sewers might be a good place quiet and not many people went to them for obvious reasons. Then he thought about that for a second and recognised that there was a reason nobody went down there, lots of monsters apparently and that wasn't something he could deal with at the moment. Oh well he was only 8, there would be plenty of time to think of how to best learn magic later. Best get to bed now and start thinking up answers to any possible questions tomorrow. They'd probably realise the gold was gone and would no doubt we extremely pissed about it. He had no idea how right he was about that.

**Midnight**

He awoke to the sound of shouting and heavy footfall squelching in the mud outside the little house devoted to orphans like him. He as well as every other orphan were up and alert as quickly as possible. Peeking through the small opening that were ostensibly windows he looked outside. He was very surprised with what he saw, two men were carrying the King of Beggars. He had blood pooling on his chest and had quite obviously been injured. There was a number of other people out there and Harry overheard what they were saying with remarkable clarity.

"What the fuck happened out there, there was supposed to be eight of you and only five of you have come back, Bedlam is half dead from the looks of it. Something happened with Wiley didn't it?" Harry's eyes widened in surprise, Wiley had done this, the biggest player in the Novigrad underground.

"Aye it did alright, Wiley seemed happy to come to terms, didn't seem like he wanted to waste the effort with us. We gave him the money and he was all smiles. Someone went off to count the coin and when he came back he said we'd cut 100 crowns off the agreed amount. He got pissed he did, ordered his men to kill us, only 5 of us managed to escape and even then barely." The one who had spoken was shaken from the experience but not as much as Harry was right now. 100 crowns missing. He had taken that money he was sure of it and now those three men were dead because of it. He hadn't realised the money was for Wiley he thought with dread and guilt pooling in his gut. It made sense though in hindsight, for that amount there was really no other reason that they would have that amount out publicly other than if they intended to use it immediately. They must have been counting it and not put the money away safely when they had finished. He slumped down against the wall and stared ahead blankly, white noise filling his ears as he thought on what had happened.

He sat for maybe minutes, maybe hours, probably somewhere in between before he was jolted back to the dawning horror of his situation by a tapping on his shoulder and the loud calling of his name. He looked up to see one of the other orphans, a boy named Mikel.

"What happened to you?" he enquired "looked like you'd seen a wraith" Harry focused his vision, no longer looking past the other orphan.

"Just surprised is all. Didn't think anything could ever happen to the King of Beggars" his reply was stammered and he didn't think even a toddler would believe him. He was met with an unsure hmm before Mikel spoke again.

"Well might as well get some sleep, I'm tired." With that he moved over to the other side of the room to slip under his thin blanket. Harry decided to do the same and tried to sleep but he could still hear people rushing about outside and the fact he had killed 6 people either directly or indirectly over the past couple of days slowly dawned on him. Needless to say he didn't get much sleep.

**The next morning**

Harry left fairly early and decided it would be best to head over to Vilmerius, the boy might be awake now and it would hopefully firm his resolve and reasoning for what he'd done. The walk was spent solemnly and even the drunken antics of Novigrad citizens failed to amuse him as they usually did. He entered the hospital and went over to Von Gratz who was currently talking to a man about the woman in the bed they congregated in front of. Harry politely waited for them to finish before grabbing his attention.

"Doctor Von Gratz, the elf. How is he?" He bit his lip in nervous anticipation.

"His physical wounds have healed very well, he even awoke yesterday, and unfortunately he awoke screaming out for his mother. He fell asleep soon after." Harry nodded along.

"When can he leave?"

"Well theoretically he could leave as soon as he wakes up but he would be better suited staying for a few days so that he can get some rest."

"Okay. Thank you very much Doctor Von Gratz, I'll never forget what you did. I'll find a way to pay you back one day I swear it." The incident had solidified in his mind the importance of Vilmerius and he was determined to ensure it continued to run. One day he would have the money and power to ensure that Vilmerius got the funds it needed to run smoothly. Von Gratz simply nodded in acquiescence before moving on. Harry himself moved over to the elf and decided to sit there for a while in the hope that the boy woke up, after all he didn't even know his name. He waited for a number of hours and even with his desire to see the boy he'd helped wake his patience was starting to wear thin. At 8 years old he didn't have the patience of a monk or nun. He was going to leave before the boy started mumbling something. It sounded like 'mum' to Harry's ears and he smiled sadly before stepping out the door. He'd best get to doing some work, it would be suspicious if he didn't bring any money in tonight.

**Evening **

When he returned to Putrid Grove he gave in two thirds of his 'earnings' and stashed the rest in his room. He decided to speak to the other orphans and maybe hang around the bits for a bit before heading to bed.

"Hi Mikel, how did you do today?" he tried to put some cheeriness into his voice and he hoped he'd managed to do it.

"Eh it was okay, got a fistful of crowns. I reckon I could'a got more if not for the Beggars guards searching the whole place." Now that surprised Harry a bit, he seemed to have missed the investigation, not that he was worried. The gold wasn't in his room anymore so it didn't matter if they searched his stuff or not. But it was notable because he seemed to have narrowed down the suspects to someone living in Putrid Grove.

"Oh, I must have missed that, I went out early to get started. When did they come by?"

"Somewhere between midday and first light. Just asking questions, who was where when, did I see anything suspicious that sort of thing?" Harrys eyebrows raised up a bit.

"And? Did you see anything suspicious?"

"Well maybe. I mean you've been gone a lot lately and you're reaction last night was really weird. But other than that not really." Harrys face contorted in anger.

"Me! Me! You think I did it because what, I've been out a lot? So what if I like walking the city at night. Or is it because I was so surprised that the man who took me in and gave me a purpose almost died yesterday? Which one of those do you think makes me guilty hmmm?" He was angry at the insinuation even if it was correct and it came through spectacularly probably because he poured his anger at himself into the words. Mikel seemed taken aback by Harry's anger and went on to the defensive.

"What? No! No! Of course not. I don't think you did it. It's just I'd never seen you act like that before. I even told them I didn't think you'd done it." Harry scowled as he said this, still not entirely believing him.

"Whatever, I'm going for a walk." He stepped out the door planning on going to the docks but he didn't get far before someone called out to him.

"Oi, orphan boy" Harry turned around, that could mean many people and he was one of them. He pointed a finger at himself and the man spoke again "yeah you. Come with me, Bedlam said he wanted to speak to you. Let's go." With his piece said the man decided to walk on and Harry followed after him as expected. The walk seemed like a death sentence to Harry. He knew that if they knew what he'd done then he was done for. He repeated an internal mantra of 'keep calm they don't what you've done'. It was working for now.

"How is the King of Beggars?" Harry asked, small talk seemed like a natural thing to do in this situation so he did that. The man seemed annoyed at the question but he answered anyway.

"He's fine. It was only a flesh wound. Nothing bandages and some bed rest won't heal."

"Good to hear". An uncomfortable silence for Harry descended upon them after that and they completed the journey into the tavern and up the stairs in silence. The guard knocked on the door on the left and waited for an answer from the occupant.

"Come in." The guard pushed the door open and gestured for Harry to go in. The room was lit by candles, wax pooled around their bases and the wicks dribbled hot wax occasionally. The King of Beggars, Francis Bedlam himself looked weaker than Harry had ever seen and he lay in bed shirtless with bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. "Franz, leave us. Harry can make his own way out when he's done." The guard nodded then shut the door and walked off presumably to get a drink in the tavern beneath them.

"You wanted to see me sir?" sweat dribbled down Harry's forehead and he swept it away in a movement that he hoped looked like him sweeping his raven locks aside.

"I did. You heard about what happened today with Wiley I take it."

"Bits and pieces sir." Bedlam laughed although it seemed to be slightly wheezy.

"You're a smart lad Harry; you no doubt pieced it together. Some cunt stole some money from what we was going to give Wiley and he thought we were trying to cheat him. Killed three good men and almost killed me." He looked angry as he spoke, understandably Harry thought.

"Do you know who did it? What will happen to them?" he tried to keep his tone even and not let his nerves control him.

"I have a few guesses and as to what happens to the cunt well I don't know yet. Maybe I'll just kill them and be done with it or maybe I'll make sure they live a miserable maggoty existence before finally dying." Ah Harry thought whipping or having his lessons cancelled definitely seemed to have been a wrong guess as to punishment. Although he thought it wasn't like he could have known that the money he'd taken was for Wiley or what would happen if it went missing.

"How did they steal it? Wouldn't it have been locked up?" play dumb and clueless was the plan now. Asking questions was what he needed to do. Harry hoped he could maintain his composure. The King of Beggars snorted from his propped up position in his bed.

"You would think wouldn't you? No the lazy bastards who counted thought doing it on the table outside was smart. They left it outside overnight. If it weren't for Wiley having killed the pair of them I would have lay the blame at their feet and been done with it." He seemed contemplative before he spoke again. "You know kid, I see greatness in you? You're like me, smart and not content with how you see the world. Want to change it am I right?" Harry nodded. "I thought so." He looked up to the ceiling perhaps staring at the timber beams or more likely thinking. "I saw to it you got reading lessons and taught the things needed to perhaps be a successor to me."

"A successor? But you're only just past 30" The information was like a gut punch, he'd viewed him so highly and he'd stolen from him and nearly gotten him killed. He felt sick.

"True enough but in Novigrad men like me typically don't grow old. I thought to train you so you could lead as I do." These words worried Harry as listened to them. Why was he speaking past tense? "So I suppose" he pushed on not knowing or carrying about Harry's internal struggle "I should ask why you did it?" Harry was shocked, he hadn't seen that coming. Had he really been so careless as to be seen?

"How did you know?" he asked shoulders slumping and despair creeping into his tone. Bedlam turned his gaze away from the ceiling and back to Harry. He heard a gulp from the King of Beggars and for a brief second his face looked anguished before it hardened and he spoke again.

"I didn't. I didn't believe the suspicion Mikel thought to share but you just confirmed it." Harry had been played, no doubt plenty of people had received similar accusations today in the hopes that they caved. If he'd just pretended he hadn't done it he'd have gotten away scot free instead of crumbling like a house of cards as soon as he'd been accused. So much for keeping his composure he thought morosely. He put his head in his hands and clenched his eyes shut so as not to let the tears leak from his eyes. He must be strong, crying wouldn't solve anything he would face it head on.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was for Wiley." He was proud to say he didn't cry and his voice didn't waver despite how much he felt like he was going to.

"Where did my money go in the end? Was it spent well enough to justify 3 good men dying and me almost kicking the bucket too?" The words were just a twist of the dagger in Harry's heart and he tried not to let anything slip about the elven boy. If he was going to be killed over this then he wouldn't bring the elven boy down too.

"I hope so sir."

"I suppose it doesn't matter does it. All that matters is the deed and the consequence."

"Is there any way I could pay it back? Redeem myself?"

"No. You've destroyed any trust between us. Even if you did pay it back I'd always be worried about taking a dagger to the back." Harry sighed a heavy shaky breath and now as it seemed that Francis Bedlam King of Beggars was going to order him dead he felt calm wash over him, the nerves that had wracked him for the whole conversation left as he now knew what was going to happen.

"Can you at least make it quick then?" he didn't know why he was so calm, any other 8 year old would be screaming and crying likely but he always felt like he was more mature than he actually was. He'd face his death with dignity.

"No. Because I'm not going to have you killed. I don't kill children."

"So what happens next then?" he honestly had no clue what was going to happen. He hadn't expected to be spared simply on account of being a child.

"You remember the second option I told you about?" Harry paled at that "You are never to return to Putrid Grove, you will receive no aid from anyone in the city and guards will dog your every footstep. You will live a miserable existence but you will live. My men want blood and so do their families. You will live even if it is a poor life."

"So I suppose I'll go now then?" he was wistful which he found rather odd. His emotions would probably catch up when he realised the full depths of which he was screwed.

"Yes you can see yourself out now. I'll give you 15 minutes to get your things and go." With his parting words said he lay his head back on his bead and closed his eyes. Harry walked out and quickly made his way to his room to get his meagre belongings, 7 crowns and the blanket he'd had since birth. The other orphans looked at him oddly but none spoke to him for which he was grateful for. He was leaving Putrid Grove, the first place he'd ever felt he belonged to and he'd likely never return. But he vowed he'd find a place of his own he'd make sure no one ever forced him from it in the future.

**Midday next day**

He'd gone to the docks last night, all the way to the end to the point where the city walls started to curve back in on themselves. It was quiet there and he'd cried a lot. His emotions getting the better of him now he was alone. But now he resolved to stop. So he was in trouble and had no home and the entirety of the poorer side of Novigrad was against him but that was no reason to give up. He'd prosper and he would ensure that he survived and lived a good life. The revelation of magic buoying his confidence. He would adapt to his new circumstances even if he would miss Putrid Grove, dwelling on it would achieve nothing.

He was now at Vilmerius and he was going to speak to the elven boy. He sat down next to the boy and waited. He would wait till the boy awoke for as long as it took. Fortunately he was officially out of the King of Beggars reach, this was Wiley's territory and he didn't know about Harry yet.

The boy awoke at about one o clock and he looked around blearily.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Harry. What's yours?" he asked softly.

"Galen. My name is Galen and I… I." he stopped speaking and appeared to be hyper ventilating to Harrys eyes. "My mother. Where's my mother? I need to find my mother." Harry felt his heart break a little, it was horrid to see him remember what had happened and now Harry had to tell him she was dead.

"She passed away. I am so, so sorry. I truly am, I'll help you in any way I can but that's not much I'm afraid." The boy broke down crying and Harry sighed. Would nothing be easy this week.

**Also to answer some questions from reviews:**

**No there will be no Potter verse in this story; it will take place firmly within the Witcher world. **

**Yes he will learn magic but for a long while it will just his magic reacting to his will. He's going to get no formal training or any books to learn from for a fairly long time. He will learn specific spells later. **

**Finally no Harry will not become a Witcher, he may become decent with a sword but in a sword fight Geralt would bend him over a barrel and show him the 50 states regardless of how good he gets. Next Chapter will involve a time skip to about 1261 because I don't particularly enjoy writing an 8 year old Harry. Thanks for reading. **


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